Queued

Herding the tours onto the bus is less than spectacular, I suppose. Every group seems to have one particularly large, aggressive guy who had beer for lunch. The Family Units are all right, as long as their kids don’t scream too much.

But the pay is sweet, fifty grand per load, and it’s easy enough to drive another group out to the desert and have another “breakdown.”

You’d think they’d catch on, just from the name. “Tour Beautiful Fly Canyon.” Flies and the undead go together like helpless and tourist.

I knew something was villainous when I read the money he’s paid. From these stories, the world must be full of the undead. If I was him, I’d quit while I was alive. I doubt you retire from that job. Well done, Dave. 🙂 — Suzanne